Baby, Lets Play Hero
by Shelby Chace
Summary: Castiel the Lone Wanderer gets involved with a woman named Reilly in Underworld. This merc tells him that if he aids her men is escape from the Statesman Hotel there'll be something in it for him. Along the way he encounters dangers of the DC ruins.


Reilly's Rangers

Today his pickup line was 'How about my reward?' which was cheesy enough, he thought. However, to his surprise, she took the bait quite quickly. Maybe she thought it was cute and decided that he had endured enough in that span of two tiring days, or maybe she thought he needed to shut up and pounce on that shit before she got angry at him again for talking too much. Either way, she attacked him and supplied the seducing all by herself.

Now Castiel found himself locked in a vacant makeshift ghoul clinic with a chick tarring off _his_ clothing like she was the overly horny man out for an urgent booty call. He couldn't say he minded after all and played along with a delighted grin stuck to his face. Besides, this wasn't the usual routine anyway and he liked it, God knows she did. He just _thanked_ God that Underworld's small treatment center was closed after-hours.

Reilly had him forced up against the wall with her strawberry lips locked to his roughly, groping at him madly. She stood on her tiptoes to reach his mouth and properly battle with his tongue. She had already flung his leather jacket across the room as she dug her fingers into his chest and dragged down. Cas laughed as she tore off his black t-shirt next, then shoved him over to one of the medical beds. He practically tripped and landed on it.

"You won't be needing this." She said while promptly unbuckling his metal belt with slender hands moving very fast and threw it over her shoulder as it hit the wall with a metallic clink.

"Relax, sweetheart," Cas said as she mounted him wildly, "We got all night, ya know. Do…"

"Shut up." She simply ordered and pressed his broad shoulders back down on the bed, cutting him off as he uttered a grunt from her shove.

"Alright…" he replied with a raised eyebrow as she roughly pressed her lips to his again, cutting him off once more. "I guess… you … really are … excited about this … aren't ya?" he mumbled between breaks in her kisses as she bit his bottom lip hard then she pulled away to sit up.

"_Ow_…" he mumbled with a slight frown and ran his tongue over where her teeth nearly cut him. "I didn't know we were biting, but if ya…"

"_Shhh_…" she hushed with a hand over his mouth then tore her own shirt off and threw it, the grimy, patched up blouse flying away. That shut him up. _Crazy fox_, Cas thought with a smirk and couldn't say he minded her dominance. In fact, he thought, it was sexy as fuck. She grinned devilishly and leaned over again, some burgundy strands of her hair brushing against his skin. She connected her tongue to his abdomen then traced up to his jaw, enjoying every contour of his toned masculine torso along the way.

Reilly sucked at his neck while sneaking her hand down between them to meet the fork in his blue jeans. Groping and toying with him, she easily caused that fork to tighten beneath her. Cas threw his head back while squeezing his eyes shut as a pleased moan escaped his lips, erection now almost painfully pressing against his jeans. He ran his big hands over her, arms curving around her small, sinuous frame. Perhaps all that bloodshed, terror, and pain was well worth it.

_Two days earlier…_

Castiel winced as Doc Barrows pried at the wound in his shoulder, grinding his molars. He felt warm, sticky wetness trail down his chest as the doctor held him still with his opposite gloved hand grasped strictly on the wastelander's other shoulder. He sat stressed on a medical bed, gripping the sides tightly with feet hung freely, and would murmur tiny bits of medical advice, which were not welcome. He was a bad patient, but could watch and aid others with what his father had taught him about medical assistance back in the Vault. However, performing anything on himself was a novel idea for Cas and he was sure he was bound to fuck something up. So, the young greaser just sat there like a moron. He was naked from the waist up.

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep that animal out of my clinic?" The doctor snapped while digging for the bullet firmly wedged into his patient's shoulder.

Cas' baby-blue gaze fell to the dog lying contently on the marbled floor. "Why?" he replied while glancing back to the doctor with an arched eyebrow, "You allergic? Oh, c'mon he's not hurtin' anyone."

Cas smirked kindly as the ghoul doctor rolled his pale glazed over eyes, the nurse over at the terminal uttering a giggle. "Stop moving." Barrows replied dully and dug deeper.

The wastelander groaned while gritting his teeth harder as pain echoed over his features. "Could've given me some meds first…" he mumbled gazing down to his swollen wound, "Or some booze maybe."

"Got it." Barrows stated now and placed the bullet and tweezers down on the metal tray with a clink. Chunks of congealed blood were glued to the slender slug. Cas mustered a fleeting look at that too and instantly reverted his gaze as sudden lightheadedness made him feel colder in that dim, dreadful room.

"Butcher…" Cas murmured with a wince, stomach twisting.

"You're lucky," replied the doc, "I charge other smoothskins extra for penetrating trauma like this." he said and broke out the needle and sutures, rolling the supplies over on a metal tray.

"Too bad I'm a regular, huh?" Cas joked with a grin as his eyes fell over the woman across the way again. She was comatose, or so Barrows said, but seemed around his age. She was a thin burgundy-redhead dressed in worn wasteland clothes with a black tattoo at the back of her neck. He always had a thing for red-heads.

Castiel had seen that insignia before out in the wastes and it aroused his almost childish curiosity. When he had asked, Barrows told him it was the emblem of Reilly's Rangers, some mercenary faction that ventured out to map the wastes of DC. Cas couldn't see her face by the way she lay, yet he still had asked of her on more than one occasion and he was about to do it again.

"What 'bout that girl?" he questioned as the doctor stitched up the small, sore hole in his shoulder.

"What about her?" Barrows replied without looking to him, gruff voice cranky. "I already told you about her condition and I'm not interested in aiding your love life."

Cas laughed, a wide smile spreading over his face. "That's not what I'm aimin' at, doc." He swallowed, remembering the relayed message on an emergency frequency about a stranded ranger group requesting assistance. "Ya should wake her, I heard about her guys bein' stuck on a roof or something…"

"Why should I care?" the ghoul replied and tied off the end of the black stitching. "It's better she's here. You young people are so anxious to go out and get yourselves killed…"

"Hey, maybe I can help her." the greaser said and Barrows stared at him blankly, "C'mon, doc, can't leave her that way forever."

The Underworld doctor gazed at the cheerful wastelander, whom was smiling at him like a pleading kid, with narrowed eyes then finally decided that he had enough of his consistent questioning and turned to the ghoul nurse across the way. "Graves, finish this up here." he ordered then gazed back to the man picking at the newly placed stitches.

Barrows slapped Cas' arm like an adult would to a child and the wastelander quit his scratching. "If her condition worsens it will be your fault." he snapped and wandered over to the woman as nurse Graves approached Cas. "Damn smoothskin wastelanders and their cash dilemmas…"

As the nurse took gauze and applied it to his shoulder gently, Cas watched the doctor shoot some unknown liquid into the IV tube then bend over and perform some other medical necessity. Cas leaned in attempt to see what he was doing as the nurse opened her mouth.

"You're kind to want to help her." She said, which caused the wanderer's bright blue gaze to fall upon her.

"I guess," Castiel supposed and shrugged his strong shoulders, "I just wanna know what happened and help her if I can." He replied half-mindedly, more focused on the ranger woman. "She's cute…"

"Curiosity kills." The nurse responded quickly and pushed the medical tape against his flesh. "No wonder her and her gang got into trouble…"

"Oh, who doesn't want a little _trouble_ now and then?" Cas laughed with a wink as Graves handed him his black shirt with lowered eyes.

Doc Barrows now was lightly conversing with the woman whom had rolled over onto her back. She stared up at the ghoul jadedly as he explained important pieces of information to her. Cas watched inquiringly while pulling his shirt back on, brilliantly blue eyes glued to her almost intrusively. He was excited to meet her.

The woman sat up slowly as the doctor strode away from her, shooting Cas a glare of annoyance. He didn't catch it. Cas stood with a quick roll of his wounded shoulder and wandered over to her bedside immediately.

"Hey." he greeted casually with a smirk as she moaned and started to stand like a drunken sleepwalker. She seemed to wobble on her heels before him for a moment with a hand up to her eyes. "Whoa," Cas caught her before she fell to the floor. "Are ya okay, sweetheart?"

She furrowed her brow and put her hands on his arms, attempting to steady herself. She wasn't very tall. Blinking back the wooziness, the woman gazed up at the man whom had her in his arms. "Who the hell are you?" she spat and pushed him away, realizing that he was a complete stranger.

"I'm Cas." he replied gladly with a grin still as she shakily sat back down on the bed.

The woman held a glare on her pretty face and looked this guy up and down, not exactly gawking. Her first thought was that he was very easy on the eyes, but she pushed that away as pain in her skull caused her to cringe. He was tall, was her next thought, but something was unusual about him. He simply stood there, towering over her, wearing a plain black tee-shirt with a fresh bullet hole and blood stains, navy-blue jeans, and black Harness boots; such an odd assortment of getup for a wastelander. It almost seemed he was lost in the wrong time period.

The young guy had striking features of the face with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, large and sparkling. He was thin with a prominent V shape to his body, well built, yet he still was usual to her. Perhaps he was too clean, no scars, no missing pieces. No, he wasn't an average wastelander. His teeth were too white and straight, eyes too innocent; he had a smile too charming for a battered drifter.

"Cas?" she repeated, olive green eyes now up at his face again, "Is that short for something?" she asked and took in a long bored breath. The least she could do was talk to this guy whom was so thrilled to meet her, humor herself.

He seemed to shift in his stance, suddenly embarrassed. "Castiel." he mumbled and ran a hand back through his curly raven hair. "My parents were sort of the religious type."

"Reilly." she said next and licked her full lips. She liked his name. "Look, _Cas_, I've gotta go."

The wastelander furrowed his brow and proceeded to object. "Gotta go? You just came out of a coma," he said, as she stood again, "I don't think you should be goin' anywhere, sweetheart"

"Look, my guys are still out there and they're in deep shit…" she began then paused briefly, "Don't call me _sweetheart_… Anyway, I have to get out there and help them out of that hellhole… that I put them in." she seemed upset and guiltily lowered her gaze from his.

"What happened?" he inquired while itching at the white gauze beneath his prewar shirt. With genuine concern and honesty he focused all his wired attention on the woman.

Reilly bit on the inside of her cheek. She practically refrained from telling him, a complete stranger, yet there was something about him that told her it was alright. "We were mapping the DC ruins when a group of pissed off super mutants ambushed us." she explained uncomfortably, "I led my men into the Our Lady Hope Hospital and we fought our way into the Statesman Hotel."

Cas furrowed his brow lightly and began to bite on his lip in attempt to keep his gaze from her chest, her shirt open a bit at the front. "That's where it went from shitty to being totally fucked right?"

Reilly scowled at him momentarily then continued to speak. "We were surrounded and I, stupidly, decided to make an escape for help…"

"And that's where you got gang raped by a bunch of muties?" he uttered a short snicker, but bit harder on his lip when she shot him a sneer that looked like she could have beat the shit out of him. It wasn't a good time for jokes.

"Yes, they jumped me and the next thing I know I'm being stared at by a ghoul and talked at by some douchebag who thinks he's real funny shit." she spat with narrowed eyes and planted her hands on her womanly hips.

"Alright, alright," Cas put his hands, feeling guilty, "Sorry about the 'gang rape' thing, but you do look kinda … um _tired_." He replied carefully and winced as she snapped at him.

"You think I don't know that!" she growled, "I know I can't get out there and help them!" she then put her hands on her hips, "I know it's my fault, I even got Theo killed because of my stupid idea to head into the hotel."

Reilly took in a breath and sighed as Cas watched her idly. "I make shitty decisions sometimes…"

"Shut up." She retorted with a snap then turned away from him, biting her fingernails in thought. He also talked too much for a wastelander; she rolled her green eyes. As an idea came to mind, one that he probably surmised anyway, she spun back to face him. "Look, if _you_ go out there and back them up you'd be greatly rewarded." she stated while poking him in the chest with her index finger.

Cas raised one of his pointed, angular eyebrows while pulling his heavy leather jacket back over himself. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." Reilly grinned, "Help my men out of the Statesman and I'd be happy to reward you. It will mean a lot to me, to all of Reilly's Rangers." She explained in a softer voice as if urging him to take the job.

Castiel thought quickly about this for a moment, perhaps too quickly. "So, I go and help your dudes out of the hotel and I get rewarded? …Sounds good to me, baby."

Reilly's slender shoulders seemed to droop. "This means so much. You have no idea." She purred then chomped on the inside of her cheek again. "But be careful out there, those ruins are badass."

"Kay," Cas replied simply, "I'll try not to get gang raped." He chuckled as he spun on his heels after grabbing his gear.

"Shut up!" Reilly punched his arm before he could fully stride away from reach as he whistled for his dog to follow. The animal jumped to this command and trotted after him happily, ears bouncing and tail wagging.

She shook her head as he strode on through the clinic's double doors. He might have been a cocky smart-mouthed bastard, but as he left her sight, Reilly did find a grin painted across her face. She actually liked him. He certainly had a personality that grew on people, like an annoying weed that keeps appearing in the same spot no matter how many times you spray chemicals on it.

The ruins of DC were usually a chaotic and gruesome battleground, yet, as the red evening sun fell over the rusted skeletons of old motor vehicles and dead frameworks of crumbled buildings, all was strangely silent. Guiltless sounds of metal bones moaning and a warmed breeze off the sands of Virginia's desolate landscape sighing were all that urged a lone wanderer farther into the decaying remnants. The faint gust drifted through the shattered avenues like an unseen phantom through the city's forlorn streets.

Castiel noted every single relaxed advance of his hound for guidance and was relieved that the animal showed no telltale sign of discontentment toward their surroundings. Dogmeat paced easily by his master's side. Cas patted the dog's soft head with a grin. He wasn't completely alone and he took comfort in that feeling.

Comforted enough to allow his radio to receive a strong signal from GNR's station. And proud enough to listen in to the station he aided not too long ago. A slow gentle tune emanated from the device and faded out to the deserted boulevards in a lonely soft echo. Cas had listened to the same song so many times. A vocalist named Patsy Cline sang it, 'Crazy' she had called it. His father used to play it off an old record player for him as an infant, to help him sleep and calm him as a child. Cas would watch the black record spin for hours. There was something about the woman's soothing sultry voice that made him feel at ease, like the mother he never had.

Giant grimy hanging letters and a rusted red cross of an abandoned hospital came into view. The scene broke him from his pleasant prior thoughts quickly. The structure was immense, many shattered windows of patients' rooms plotted even points within the stone, the shades drawn as if the hospital was still in operation. That was an eerie thought. A bloody handprint was smeared upon the front entrance door of the building, streams of the dry crimson substance staining down the metal. He was in for it now.

Cas turned off his radio and grabbed his double barrel shotgun from its holster before breaking that forewarned threshold. He pressed his palm to the cool steel and the door gave way to his touch, creaking cruelly. The wastelander took a step over the brink between the barren, spacious exterior and the harsh stagnate interior as his dog followed in his stride.

Immediately the animal's upright pointed ears fell back and he lowered himself closer to the tiled floor. There was something wrong with the place. An eerie sensation of being watched and suffocation engulfed the tall greaser now, unable to escape. It felt as if sinister entities were lingering about, hiding in the dark, within shadowed archways, beneath cracked desks, just around a corridor. Cas felt gooseflesh arise and he swallowed hard. The air was thick with tension and sadness. He wanted to leave.

Unnatural scarlet hanging lights swung slowly down a corridor to his left, producing only small rings of light beneath them. The darkness of this hallway to former patient wing was overwhelming, so black it seemed that no windows existed in fact.

Cas stood in the lobby for a second longer. His hands firmly grasped the weapon as if something out from the gloom would snatch it from him. Items were strewn about, broken terminals generating green silent static on their black screens, torn medical charts thrown across the room, chairs overturned. How the hell was he supposed to find his way through to the hotel?

The greaser decided to take the left and down the murky hallway. Each flickering dull bulb above illuminated his form for seconds at a time as he moved beneath them. Dust thick as fog hung in the stillness of the air, twisting as he sauntered through it. There was a faint resonating voice farther down the corridor, but it seemed to be scratchy as if from a recording loop. All but the recorded voice and Castiel's hesitant steps was soundless. Dogmeat uttered a slight growl and Cas' heart jumped into his throat. He could hear his own breathing now as a shuffle in a small room farther down attracted the dog's attention.

Taking a few more cautious steps forward, Cas raised his loaded weapon to eye level and flicked the safety switch off with a light click. As if from a horrid nightmare, something appeared out from the darkness. This creature was low to the ground and moved very slowly but quietly, a Super Mutant's watchdog. It was a gruesome, grotesque looking thing, like a hell spawn with unnaturally placed body parts of different forms, rotten hanging flesh and black eyes. This Centaur now was dragging itself closer, tentacle-like tongue flopping and wriggling from its mouth nauseatingly.

Cas knew if he shot at it any Super Mutants nearby would be alerted by the blast and he wasn't in the mood for an ambush. Cas then uttered a quick high-pitched whistle and Dogmeat leapt at the creature and battled with it. Biting and gnawing at the thing, the dog drew blood and it began to weaken. Cas allowed this to continue and pumped the mechanism of his shotgun, besides, Dogmeat could run circles around the creature at still never be injured.

Soon the centaur slumped to the floor as awful greened blood pooled beneath it and Dogmeat returned to his master with victory.

"Good boy." Cas praised and stepped over the body, dust flicking up in his gait.

The dog kept very close at his master's heels. Cas rounded one corner quickly and spun into a patient room with his back pressed up against the cold wall. From a medical kit nailed to that wall, he took a few rolls of gauze and an adrenalin shot. He could never be too careful, he knew, and stuffed the objects into his dirty, beige pack which hung off his shoulder.

As his heart thundered in his ears and breath left his lips quickly, Cas let his gaze drift about the small medical room he had snuck into. He did this before departing, yet something captured his attention. The patient room was lightened slightly by the broken window shades. It was eerie, but saddening to him. A father and son. The brittle skeleton of an older man laid so very still in the bed, the bones of his hand clasped in those of another. The second skeleton still sat in a chair beside the medical bed. The bones of the younger male leaned motionlessly against the bed as if weeping. It was the blast that had killed them, yet it seemed they chose not to run. Cas solemnly stared at the two in thought. Though they were so lifeless, a piece of emotion was left behind and the wanderer could feel it. Seeing them steadied his heart. He thought again of his own father and pictured himself as the skeleton of the son. Cas knew he would have stayed as well, he would have stayed with his father.

Suddenly two voices began to bicker from further down the hall. This broke him from his revelations. Cas could hear them conversing with one another as if old pals, the voices, however, were very thick, rough and inhumanly deep. Super Mutants, he knew, were difficult to bring down, but easy to fool. They were tough to kill due to their immense size, which practically tripled an adult human male. The Mutants stood at an average of ten feet in height and probably weighed as much as a car. Just one of these creatures could execute a great amount of damage to a person, let alone being equipped with weapons also. Cas listened for a brief moment longer, planning a route in his rushing mind.

"If you're gonna talk, talk!" one said.

"We need more humans!" replied the other as the large heavy footsteps ceased. "Need more to… kill! And eat!"

"You talk a lot!" shouted the other, which they were always shouting, "Talk a lot … like a stupid human!"

The greaser sucked in a breath for confidence with eyes closed then emerged from his hiding spot with light steps, leaving the dead behind. Dogmeat followed behind with fur ridged. His stomach flipped when the sole of his boot loudly crushed something comprised of glass on the floor.

"What was that?" one of the Mutants inquired. "I heard a noise."

Cas chomped hard on his lower lip, momentarily motionless like stone, as the other mutant answered. "Probably nothin'."

The suspense in the air coiled thickly and it made him want to puke. He planned to shoot the first mutant square in the head with brains on the floor then sic Dogmeat on the other along with concentrated fire. Occasionally, his plans didn't work out the way he wanted and that resulted in more bullet wounds and blunt force trauma. However, he almost never had a back-up arrangement nor did he plan that far ahead, he still had some luck up his sleeves… for some reason.

Cas growled as he jumped to round the corner and fired at the first mutant. The scattered shotgun bullets destroyed the creature's head like a tiny explosion within the thing's brain. The large bulky form immediately dropped like dead weight to the floor and it now very well was. As the first fell the other was in range and Cas whistled sternly. Dogmeat lunged at the mutant with bared teeth and menacing snarls.

"Stupid little man!" the thing roared and swung the hefty nailboard at the hound before charging at the man.

The dog was too nimble for the huge hulking creature and darted beneath these blows, gnawing at its legs. Castiel sent four rounds into the creature's torso and soon it fell back with a loud smack. Cas grinned proudly to himself as Dogmeat turned and growled in his direction. He quickly frowned, but this act triggered an immediate response and Cas ducked just before a two-by-four nearly took his head off his shoulders.

Spinning, he shouted and shot at the third mutant. The thing bellowed and swung at him again. Missing, Cas could see it was becoming more furious than wounded. He continued to empty the double barrels into the thing's chest, treading backwards as the mutant threw medical stretchers into walls.

"I'm going to wear your bones around my neck!" the mutant roared, now getting dangerously close to the wastelander.

Dogmeat bit at the creature's heels as Cas stumbled, but fired and the thing's ugly face imploded, blood spraying down the hall. The dead load fell with a whack and the wanderer reloaded. "Damn…" Cas mumbled to himself as the dog panted by his side, snout caked in blood. "Props to ya."

Nearly tripping, Cas sprinted down one corridor then the next, swiftly reading the overhanging signs as he ran. _Operating Room, Offices, Waiting Room._ He now could care less about how loudly his boots hit the tiles or how hastily he rounded each corner. He needed to reach the roof and as fast as humanly possible before another brigade of Super Mutants found him or so was his theory. The greaser rushed with quickly escaping breaths, coat tails flying behind his form as his heart struck his ribs violently.

_Stairs. _He found what he was searching for and darted up the double set of stone steps as his dog scampered behind him. As he hurriedly jogged around the last set of stairs to the upper level a hideous green face appeared suddenly, there was hardly enough time to scream.

Coming to a slipping halt, Cas clumsily fired at the creature in that split second, but the thing had the upper hand and swung a sledgehammer at the wastelander. The mutant brought the melee weapon through the air promptly and managed to hit the man in the abdomen. He was thrust back with the blunt force and tumbled head over heels down the stairs, a quick pained grunt escaping him.

Cas hit the bottom with a groan of pain and instinctively aimed again at the mutant at the top of the stairs, though blackness threatened to invade his vision and bring him into unconsciousness. Gazing unsteadily down he sights, he fired up to the thing and managed to strike its leg, his gun almost too powerful for him to control at the moment. The bone shattered and flesh tore, limb forced from the body, the thing fell to the ground.

Dogmeat pounced and gnawed at the mutant's face until silence swallowed the bloodied stairwell. The greaser had landed on his back with legs rested up on the first few steps. Cas finally let his eyes flutter shut and laid there momentarily, which may have been for much longer than he remembered. For the next time he struggled to open them Dogmeat was lying beside him with his muzzle rested on Cas' arm. He had hit his head on the way down, he at least knew that, but he didn't feel the pain in his midsection until he attempted to sit up. Cas moaned and tried once again to push himself up on his hands, though he had fallen back twice as if his head were too heavy to hold up. Finally, after a few attempts, he stood and, with his back pressed up against the wall, he dug in his pack.

He felt something warm trail down the right side of his face and he wiped his eye with the back of his hand before the blood could seep into it. "Fantastic…" he mumbled and tore off the cover tip of the adrenalin needle with his teeth. He felt hazy and puzzled.

Castiel spit the top as it bounced to the floor then he sucked in a breath and stabbed himself in the thigh with the needle, forcing the top shaft down. He groaned and threw the empty syringe, the hound whining and nudging his opposite hand, knowing he had been injured. Squinting in the darkness as if there was a mirror across the way, Cas touched the new gash above his right eye as blood dripped from it. He winced and with gritted teeth, ran his fingers down his torso, over the jacket. He didn't want to guess at how many ribs the sledgehammer had cracked and leaned there against the wall with head lolled forward until the epinephrine shot took effect.

Suddenly, his heart began to throb very rapidly and strongly again, breath returning in waves. A rush of electric energy shot up his leg and throughout his core with a jolt. His body shook and he could feel his pulse pound everywhere. Cas shook his head and let an excited _whoop_ escape.

"Let's go, Dogmeat!" he shouted and charged back up the stairs almost taking two steps at a time in every large stride.

_Cafeteria_. Once on the top floor of the hospital the wastelander meandered through the deserted dining hall, hopping over upturned chairs and small round tables like a lunatic. The hound scurried by his side with pink tongue hanging from his snout, enjoying the almost childlike dash through the large room. Cas had a wide grin stuck on his face even though his life was at risk. Epinephrine was a funny thing, when the occasion was appropriate of course.

Through the kitchen's open doors, Cas could see a pair of Super Mutants not quite aware of his approach. He slid to a halt and grasped one of the grenades strapped to his belt. Tarring the clip out, he tossed the active grenade into the room just as the creatures turned and looked his way.

"Fuckers!" he shouted with cackle and swung his arm.

There was an echoing explosion as they screamed. Pots and pans flew off the shelves as nearby bottles imploded. As rubble from the ceiling fell and the dust cleared, both Mutants were dead on the floor lying in ponds of blood with missing body parts. Castiel then departed from the kitchen while leaving bloody footprints behind and clambered up the last set of stairs to the top floor terrace. The late golden afternoon sun bled through the bleak windows as if war never touched down on Virginia soil.

Vernon Square was a sixty-foot drop below to the derelict streets of DC. Warmth of day spilt through the now open door with an adjacent breeze whipping by. Cas scanned the vertical decline with wild sapphire eyes, hands tightly gripping the rusted railing. The light of the tawny sun pulled spectacular shades from his hair and clothing.

A downed radio tower had plunged from its once proud position atop the hospital and fallen between both buildings, creating an unusual conduit. Wondering if Reilly and her rangers had crossed here, Cas studied the obstacle with hands on his narrow hips. He squinted in the bright afternoon light and licked his lips.

"You ever tightrope walk before?" the wanderer asked his furry companion, but the dog simply cocked its head at him in response, "Didn't think so."

Maybe the med-x was adding to this shaky feeling, but when stepping onto the metal path it felt as if it were bending to his weight. The broken radio tower groaned as the wastelander strode across it, stepping carefully over the cracks and open spaces. The beams held up well enough, but Cas still felt as if he were being yanked to the sides and closer to the suicide drop below.

Once on the opposite side, Cas hopped down and onto the tiled floor of an exposed hotel room with a smack of his boots against the granite. "C'mon, boy!" he beckoned to the animal, which trotted across with more ease and poise than Cas could ever muster.

Dogmeat leapt down and circled his master happily. Cas patted the dog's head with a grin. "Showoff."

A battered, scorched wooden door into the building stood only a couple feet before the drop off. Half of the hotel room had crumbled away and what was left now was exposed to the hazardous conditions of the Wastes. Cas broke that threshold and entered the hotel fearlessly. However, that confidence was tested when stepping into the hall, the door swinging shut roughly behind him.

The greaser glanced over his shoulder and back to the taunting entrance, from which he had just come. The comforting light of day leaked from beneath the wooden door like a peek of heaven from between hell's barred gates. A small voice in his head whispered to turn back, but he never listened to those little warnings. He knew it was pointless to wimp-out now when he was already within the hotel, proud to have made it this far and on his own. So, Cas sighed and wandered farther into the ruins of the Statesman.

The wastelander quickly looked to his hound again for any such signs of discontentment as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the building. It was such a drastic change of lighting from outside to within the hotel that he could almost feel his pupils expand.

The animal seemed cautious and stood very close to his side, almost between his legs. Cas sucked in a breath and slowly began to inch down the hazardous incline that had caved in due to the infamous blast many years back. Half the hallway had fallen down into the lower level of rooms, the floor crumbled and oddly shapen, while the other half had been barricaded by fallen debris. Cas felt the soles of his boots slip and skid beneath the marble and uneven turf. Dogmeat still stood at attention at the top of the slope and watched his master with a cocked head, soft brown ears perked up very high.

"Shit…" Cas uttered and slid down to the next level, nearly landing on his ass as he caught himself on the wall. When he stood to his full height he whacked the back of his head on a lower portion of the damaged ceiling. Again Cas was partially irritated with his tall height as he admitted to himself that he never was the most graceful or nimble person. "…son of a bitch…" he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Kay, mutt." He said back to his dog and outstretched his arms, headache growing steadily worse. "C'mon, Dogmeat, c'mon!" he beckoned eagerly and soon the hound leapt. Cas caught the animal in his arms as the dog's body thumped hard against his chest.

"Damn…" Cas muttered and placed the rather large dog on the floor. "You've been eatin' those twinkies again."

Dogmeat gazed up to the man with a swinging tail as if he were the greatest person on the face of the Earth. Dogmeat, whom Cas had named with integrity to what the poor hound might have ended up as if he had not saved it, had a sweet face with long multi-colored fur. Almost always seeming to know what he was thinking, Dogmeat responded in the gentlest ways. Cas patted the animal with a soft grin, rubbing his one ear with a hand, again adoring his faithful companion. The hound was a German shepherd mix with one light-blue eye and one honey-brown eye, heterochromic to be specific. That lovable pup was the most obedient creature Cas had ever met, always aiming to simply please him with large amounts of affection. In all instances, it would risk its life to ensure Cas was protected. If it weren't for that dog, Cas knew he would have given up months ago.

It would be a quick and hazardous hustle through the hotel, just the way he wanted. As Cas passed damaged rooms and open doors a strange thought entered his mind. What must it have been like to witness the bomb? To watch the mushroom cloud rise from within one of these rooms with hands pressed to the glass of a window. To feel the impact strike the building like a tidal wave of sheer menacing force. Castiel could almost picture what it would have looked like and it scared him. Duck and Cover sounded so moronic then.

The daylight spilt through the windows of passing rooms slowly, bringing a glowing radiance to bathe the broken furnishings and shattered walls of peeling wallpaper. The silence of the building sent a cold shiver to slither down his spine. He could almost hear the people scream. A silence that choked out the exterior sounds of a day in the Wastes was claustrophobic. Cas could hear his every breath, each footstep, the shift and chafing of his clothing against itself. He moved slowly in a near predatory manner. He had his shoulders curled and knees bent as he stalked through the seemingly dormant halls of the Statesman.

Another Centaur appeared from the void of the vacant room marked 237 with grey hanging numbers. The tall greaser whistled again, a single high-pitched chirp and Dogmeat soundlessly lunged at the creature and battled with it. As his dog fought the beast Cas slid into a nearby room, gun raised and loaded. It was one of the smaller rooms with one bath, an undersized living space and one twin bed. Cas' stomach did a twist as he approached the bed. A solitary skeleton was laid out upon the scorched covers with empty jaw hung down on its white spine; it's dusty clothing dark in color. From what he could tell, the remains were of a man, perhaps in his later years, middle-aged, early thirties maybe. Frequently, his inherited medical skills popped up by chance. His father had taught him well. A note upon the nightstand called to him as he picked it up, the flimsy paper between his thick fingers.

It was a letter from the man to his daughter; she never received it. Cas read the words with a sobering pressure forming in his chest.

_My dearest little Renée, I know you've been waiting to hear what happened to me. I'm sorry I left you like I did. As you know, an important deal came up... one that might have let us get away from that shack we were living in. I came to the Statesman Hotel to meet the buyer and the deal went bad. We shot each other, and now I think I'm dying. I won't make it out of this place... the ruins are crawling with Super Mutants. All I can do is write this and then hide up in one of the rooms. You're a strong girl and I know you can use everything I taught you to survive alone. Please forgive me, sweetie. I only wanted to make the best for us. Daddy loves you very much. Goodbye, Baby. _

Castiel swallowed hard and held on to the feeble little piece of paper a moment longer as if he could bring the man's words to life. He gritted his teeth and ran his eyes over the ink again with a heavy heart. The message posed a striking resemblance to his own life. This startled him. He thought of the girl, whom was probably a woman by now, and tried to picture her in his mind. _Renée…_ Cas leaned to place the letter back beside the dead man, but hesitated. He couldn't put it down, couldn't let go. As he looked back to the words he felt a connection that he couldn't sever. He took in a shaky breath and folded the note and tucked it in his pocket with care. He bit his lip with that pressure inching up into his throat as Dogmeat trotted into the room.

The dog nudged his hand with a slight whine and Cas forced sad smile. The wastelander sighed and winked at his companion, pushing this emotion away. "Ready to kick some ass?"

As he spoke, louder than intended, something large rustled in the room beside him and Cas froze. "I know you're here!" a deep inhuman voice shouted as several gigantic footsteps inched closer to him. "Stop hiding!"

Castiel fell into a squatted position and raised his shotgun to eye level. He commanded Dogmeat again, but this time with a short hissing sound through his teeth and the hound darted back the way they had come. He had trained Dogmeat to obey very specific verbal commands and the dog preformed them perfectly. This time with this certain oral order Dogmeat would attack the subject from behind, giving Cas the upper hand and the element of surprise.

Cas pressed back up against the wall leaning on his toes and waited with a racing pulse. Soon the creature sent out a screech of pain as animal snarls erupted in the next room. Cas stood and leapt into the room once the mutant's back was to him. He pulled the trigger and sent the buckshot into the back of the creature's head.

It was pushin' up daisies as soon as the shot was fired. "Good boy." Cas whispered to Dogmeat then turned and wandered forward cautiously. Instead of heading down the hall, the wastelander made his way through the debris and eerie vacant rooms like a soldier stalking through a maze of foxholes. This labyrinth, however, was just as suspenseful as the hospital. With every turn or behind every piece of broken furniture an enemy could be lying in wait. He tried not to think about that and thought up a nifty reward he'd receive from Reilly, sex being the first desire and he laughed at himself with that thought. Maybe some new extra hazardous grenades… Cas finally found a staircase beside a dim maintenance room.

Rubble fell from the ceiling as he took his first step up the stairway and it irritated his nose, scratching his throat. Cas tried not to, but he sneezed anyway with an annoyed sigh afterward.

"God bless you, sir." A sudden voice said behind him.

Cas screamed and nearly jumped into the wall. He almost shot the robot in its crude blinking face. The greaser man stared at the thing with wide eyes for a moment then relaxed as Dogmeat sniffed the metal contraption.

"What the hell? Shit robot…" he muttered and stared for another brief moment before turning on it with a roll of his baby blues.

"I am sorry, sir. I did not mean to frighten you." It replied unexpectedly with its genderless computerized voice.

Cas froze and looked back over his shoulder at the thing that stood on round metal legs with rudimentary pincer hands and a fat cylindrical frame. It was a few inches shorter than him and kept pivoting its upper torso as it stared stupidly up at him.

"I wasn't scared…" he retorted through the side of his mouth.

"My calculations indeed detected an increase in blood pressure and…"

"Stuff it, rust bucket." Cas cut the thing off then realized he was arguing with a computer and frowned. The wastelander ran his tongue over his top teeth and spun on his heels once again to clime the stairs. "Bye, Bob." He snickered, deciding to give it name for laughs.

"My identification is Vault Tec model 285430." It said back to him and Cas cracked up.

"Well, it's Bob now." Cas responded and walked up the fight of stairs smiling to himself. There was a rough metallic clanking behind him as he made it to a break in the staircase where a turn led up to the next set. "Stop following me."

The robot stopped also and twisted its pointless pincer hands. "Excuse me sir, would you like me to tell you where your room is located?"

"No, I don't want … just go away, I'm trying to get killed in peace." Cas replied sarcastically, gigging at that, yet tripped over something lying on the floor before the second staircase. "Shit!" he stumbled and glanced down to his feet, catching himself on the wall. Recognizing that he had just tripped over a human body, Castiel froze.

In the dimness of the stairway, a young dead man was lying at his feet with deep open wounds in his chest. The body was sprawled out as if he had died before he even hit the floor, a sizeable pool of dried black blood beneath him. He must have been around his age, with large glazed over lifeless brown eyes and blued flesh. He was average looking, the real soldier type with all the gear he had on his person, a strong build. Cas knelt down to him and realized this must have been Theo.

"Aw damn…" Cas whispered with a sigh and reached over to close the guy's eyes with a hand. His skin was cold and wax-like. "Sorry, man." He said to the corpse and patted his shoulder. "Real, sorry."

Dogmeat overlooked the corpse and rubbed against Cas' side as his long furred tail hit him in the face. "Hey…" he grumbled in annoyance then grinned over at his furry companion, as the dog seemed to want to continue walking. However, the hound came up to him after hearing his voice and aimed to now lick him in the face. The wanderer stroked the dog's head and scratched his ears.

"I think it's about time we blew this joint." He said and stood to carry on up the stairs and straight to the roof.

"Good-bye, sir, have a nice day." The robot called after him and Cas thought if it took another step it would fall back down the stairs.

"Yeah, you too, Bob." He scoffed, yet it was almost comforting to hear such a mundane phrase.

The roof, at first seemed silent, however echoing sounds of combat resonated in the openness of the roof. The afternoon had already passed him by as the sun now had begun to sink over the black skeletons of office buildings, apartments, and storefronts. The wide darkening sky stretched as far as he could see, the stars beginning to emerge along side a full blue moon. At times Cas thought DC could appear beautiful in all its destruction as if it were all for him. The way the sun painted colors in the streets, against the concrete, and upon lost structures of the city seemed almost heavenly with all the hues of violets and blues.

Dead super mutants littered the grounds. The remaining group of Reilly's Rangers had themselves situated up at the tallest point of the roof, where an old prewar rooftop café had once been. Their shots rang out like continuous strikes of thunder, one after another. Cas rounded a corner with Dogmeat at his side, passing an irradiated water valve on his right. A small, stone staircase led up to the uppermost position of the roof and he decided to inch his way up. A super mutant absent a head tumbled down the stairs and landed at his feet as shouts of temporary victory came around.

The wastelander now figured it was somewhat safe and began walking up the flight of steps leisurely. As soon as the group caught a glimpse of him they shot out twice for a warning then screamed over to him. Cas flinched as a bullet whipped by his face and hit a banister in a puff of beige smoke. _Shit!_

"Stay where you are!" a rough male voice called, "Drop your weapon!"

Cas took the last few steps up and lowered his rifle to his side, the tip of the long heavy weapon nearly clinking against the ground. He put his hand up, expressing his notion of reassuring them that he was indeed not a threat. "Whoa! Reilly sent me!" he called over to them as his voice echoed out over the roof. Two of the armored men exchanged glances, the taller one beside the rooftop elevator nodded at the other whom rolled his shoulders jadedly. "I'm a friend!"

"Get your ass over here before you attract every super mutant in the goddamn building!" shouted the newly elevated leader.

Cas jogged over, hoping over overturned round tables and chairs and many bodies of mutants. He came to a halt before the man whom called him over and rested his gun on his shoulder. Dogmeat wandered closer to the three of them like it was just a casual day at the office.

"The name's Butcher, I'm the team medic." Said the guy as he immediately held out his hand, also lowering his semiautomatic rifle.

Castiel took his hand and gave him a firm shake. "Cas," he introduced himself and quickly glanced about. "Looks like I came in the nick of time." He nodded at the other two.

They were out of food and nearly out of ammunition. Cas could see how tired and dirty they were, weary. Butcher was a short Hispanic guy with monotone voice and a deep sober glare. All three of the men were dressed in dark green armor with round helmets and the Ranger insignia painted white on their chests. Castiel took in a breath and felt the sting of their eyes on him, Butcher being the most welcoming however. He didn't hesitate to cut right to the chase.

"Alright, Wastelander," Butcher began with an annoyed shift in his stance. "When are reinforcements coming?"

"I'm afraid this is it." Cas replied with a slight laugh.

The medic narrowed his brown eyes up at the younger man as if studying him in false hope. "And you made it all the way up here alive, huh?" he said and cocked his helmeted head to the side.

As a medic, Butcher promptly glanced over the guy for wounds and signs of trauma. The wastelander was a bit beaten, bruised and bloody. His brown leather jacket was dusty with debris and his hands were bleeding somewhat at the knuckles. Due to a deep double gash above his right eye, a drying coat of dark red blood was stained over almost the entire side of his face, matted into his hairline. The open wound was serious, nearly to the bone with flesh and muscle torn, Butcher gathered. The guy was also breathing a bit heavily with minor signs of a mild concussion, yet Butcher kept all this to himself. He needed him to stay focused for the sake of his men and not worry about his injuries.

"Alright, I'm impressed. Reilly must have sent the right man for the job… as usual." He muttered as the dog rubbed up against his leg to pass them. "I told her she was nuts to sneak out for help, but I guess I was wrong…"

"Hey!" called a female voice as Cas glanced over to see Dogmeat licking the third, shorter ranger, in the face, "Cute dog!" she laughed and patted the hound with a smile.

"Thanks." Cas responded, yet could have sworn that she was guy, however the shape of the face and body structure was female. She's still kinda butch though, he thought. He turned back to Butcher. "Reilly is hold up in Underworld, they patched her up there, she's good."

"Good," he replied and shooed away a gnat from his face, "Listen, the only way out of here is that damn express elevator, but the motor is shot. I need something to help power it up…"

"Like a battery of some sort?" Cas cut in and scratched his right cheek, the dry blood becoming itchy now.

"Yes, exactly." Butcher agreed, "A fission battery to be specific. If I had one Donovan over there could jury-rig the thing." He explained slowly with his dull tone while motioning toward the second ranger who seemed withdrawn.

Cas narrowed his blue eyes in thought. "You got the old one, the battery, I mean?"

"Yeah, why?" Butcher inquired, "You think you can repair that burnt out piece, be my guest, Einstein."

"No," Cas replied and strode past him and over to the elevator doors, "Not exactly, but I've got an idea, just roll with it, alright?"

"I'm not sure I like this." Butcher admitted to himself mostly and followed the guy over to where Donovan stood like someone was about to attack him. "I don't know if I trust you just yet…"

Donovan handed over the broken battery with quick edgy movements. The second ranger was a tall, thin guy with big green eyes, dark brown hair and tanned skin. He and Castiel stood at basically the same height with similar body structures. The ranger seemed his age too, but a quiet, introverted guy though.

Cas took the burned out battery and held it in his hands for a moment, studying it. "This all there is?"

Donovan nodded as Butcher clapped the wastelander on the shoulder. "So, what do you think? Got a plan, Cas?"

Castiel whistled sternly over to his hound and the animal came prancing over to him. Butcher furrowed his brow as the female ranger strode over to the men. "The dog?"

"Damn straight." Cas replied and knelt down to his furry companion. He held out the device and the dog sniffed it with sudden interest. "Dogmeat, I need you to find this for me." He said gently then stood as the hound now stared up at him with keen attention, ears perked up high. "Go! Go boy, go get it!" he ordered sternly and the dog took off back the way they had come at a full run.

"Just like that?" the woman asked and placed her huge mini-gun at her feet. "Off to play scavenger hunt?"

"Yup," Cas replied with a grin and turned to her, "He's just fly like that." He said with a hint of pride and winked at her. "Shouldn't take too long."

"Well alright!" she hollered and smacked him hard on the arm, "Tell me where I can get me one of those!" she laughed as Cas leaned back against the blackened wall behind him and crossed his ankles, Donovan also leaning against it to his left.

She was a short woman with a sandy-blonde cru-cut, hazel oval shaped eyes, and sturdy muscles for her frame. She was pretty in a way, yet tomboyish and rough, she had soft feminine features of the face. Cas beamed at her and held out his hand.

"I'm Cas." He greeted and she gave him a strong shake.

"Brick's the name. It sure is good to see a friendly face out here, wastelander. Never thought I'd be talkin' so kindly with one of your kind though. I don't really trust shady drifters." She said and nodded over at Butcher who was rummaging through the last of the ammo.

"Neither do I." Cas replied with a laugh, "Well not on a daily basis… I don't think."

Brick snickered and bent down to pick up her enormous weapon again. "So, you thought you'd just come on out here and play hero?" she teased, "Right on. Baby, skill is what keeps suckers like us alive… and well my big-ass gun that is."

The greaser nodded with a grin still and was confused on whether or not she was flirting with him. He really didn't mind. It wasn't long until Dogmeat came running back with a fission battery between his teeth. Cas knelt down to his dog as the animal came right up to him and only him. Dogmeat dropped the slightly slobbery device in Cas' hand as he patted his head, pleased.

"I'll be damned!" Brick shouted excitedly and put her hand on Cas' shoulder. "Looks like we've got a white knight after all."

Butcher approached them in disbelief as Cas patted the hound again and stood with the gadget in hand. "Good boy."

"Shit… well give that battery to Donovan then and let's get the hell off this roof." Butcher said and adjusted his weapons and ammo belt over his shoulder.

Brick raised her mini-gun as Donovan immediately darted over to the elevator's control system and plugged the battery in. "Hell yeah!" Brick shouted.

Castiel glanced down to Dogmeat at his side then rolled his broad shoulders and flicked the safety off on his double barrel shotgun, readying himself for combat. It was going to be hell all over again, but he told himself he could conquer it. _Fuckin' mutants_… he swore to himself as his pulse jumped back up. Better to die with a smoking gun rather than rotting up here too, he thought.

As soon as the elevator touched down to the ground floor and the doors slid open the four darted out with weapons raised. All seemed silent at first. The lighting was dim and bleak, dust clung in the stagnant air thickly and the decaying room stunk of death. They were on a second floor terrace in what seemed to lead down to a large banquet area. Tables were upturned and cracked, chairs with them, antique decorative things shattered and strewn about. A grand crystal chandelier still hung on its silvery chains in the center of the room, the crystals dirtied. It was odd to see, something so rare so beautiful in the broken down ugliness of the surrounds.

Castiel had become mesmerized by it for a moment. He had never seen such a thing, only in old photographs. The way the splintered crystals captured the red light from the windows across the way made small reflective wonders appear on the walls and floors. It was magical in a way, fascinating.

"C'mon, kid!" Butcher called in a sort of whisper and Cas was broken from his void.

Cas, with the other three, had fallen into a crouched position as they inched along the top balcony, making their way to the ground floor. The exit doors were in perfect view, the dark wood scorched with tiny piercings of reddened light of sunset. Heaven was through those doors yet it seemed so difficult to reach.

"Humans!" a sudden rough deep voice screamed and gunfire exploded like a storm.

A super mutant appeared from one of the side rooms with an assault rifle in its grasp. "You like that, bitch!" Brick was shouting as the others cried out in alarm, terror, and fury.

The greaser felt his heart leap up into his throat as adrenaline came right back, tight in his chest. He screamed in a deep growl of rage and darted forward, sending out blast after blast of buckshot at the closest beast. He moved quickly with agility and strength, muscles tight and mind set.

"Keep them pinned!" Butcher called as more mutants emerged from thin air it seemed.

There must have been six or seven of them, all huge and armed. It was suddenly so loud with gunfire and screaming, Cas felt his ears ring and his head pound. War broke out in seconds with bullets flying and blood spraying out over the rotting walls and floors. It was a little difficult to see in the gloom, but Cas spotted Brick on the lower level. She was backed up in a corner as three monsters inched toward her. She was pinned and he knew it. Cas ran over to the railing where he had a perfect shot and opened fire on her aggressors.

He ran out of ammo for his shotgun, tossing it in its holster over his shoulder, and bent down to retrieve an assault rifle from a fallen mutant. He stood and sent round after round towards the beasts, hitting them in the back, head, and legs. The constant release of bullets caused the weapon to harbor a tough recoil as it jolted his right shoulder in a steady shake. The wastelander managed to bring down two of them as Butcher and Donovan fought yards away from him, screaming and shooting in a thunderous chaotic manner.

Brick mowed down the last mutant advancing on her and gazed up to her ally as he stood still on the balcony like a statue. In that moment Castiel nodded to her, out of breath with a shaking in his arms and legs. Brick pointed up to him and cried out.

"Behind you!" she called with a rough shout as Cas instantly spun on his heels.

A thickly armored mutant was nearly on top of him, its horrid green face coated with a sheen of blood and grime. He had no chance to react, yet tried to twist away from it. The beast lashed out and caught him by the throat. It lifted him like it was nothing and threw him into a wall behind itself. Cas hit the wall hard; a short cry escaping him as his body collided with it then met the floor. His gun was thrown from his grasp and he was disoriented. The super mutant brute came right back and lifted him by his jacket like picking up a dropped piece of clothing effortlessly. It then one handedly took hold of his neck again, bulky fingers coiling around his throat with such a powerful pressure. It jammed him up against the wall strongly, his back smacking into the sheetrock. It wanted to squeeze the life out of him.

Cas' boots were about four feet from the floor as the thing held him restrained there. He realized he was so much smaller than it suddenly and was completely overpowered. He squirmed in the mutant's grasp kicking and fighting against it, wriggling as his hands immediately flew up to its hand around his neck. He tried desperately to pry the fingers away, gasping for air that would not come. Cas couldn't even scream for help as he struggled.

The creature squeezed tighter and growled in his face. "Die! Stupid little man!"

The greaser soon felt himself loosing consciousness quick, his arms falling. Yet, just as the blackness completely consumed his vision the pressure released and he fell. Donovan shot the brute in the side of the head, shattering the temple and exiting the brain with one fatal blow. The mutant fell back with a loud smack, dead before it hit the floor.

Butcher ran to Cas' side and was stunned to find him coughing hysterically, grabbing frantically at his throat, but conscious and alive. He was still lying on his back, gasping and panting. Pain instantly struck his chest, neck, and back. He felt numb in his arms and legs and was trembling all over. He couldn't stop it.

"Not bad, kid, not bad." Butcher was saying as he helped the wastelander to his feet. "Someone must be looking out for you or something." The medic muttered and moved Cas' right arm over his shoulders. He momentarily leaned against Butcher; his one hand still at his throat, panting with eyes squeezed shut.

"Thanks, man!" Brick said as she gently patted his left arm, "I'd be Swiss cheese if it weren't for you!"

Cas still felt a little winded and confused as he pushed away from Butcher now to stand by himself. "Whoa, hey!" the medic caught him by the arm again just as his legs gave out beneath him and he almost hit the floor. "Hold it, I got you."

"I'm fine." Castiel said and pushed away again. He shook away the drowsy feeling and rubbed his eyes. "Thanks, Don." He said to the ranger standing there like he had been petrified. "Can I call ya that?"

Donovan nodded silently as Brick glanced about. "Fuck yeah, man! We gave em' hell!"

"Fuck yeah we did." Cas replied and patted Butcher on the shoulder, noticing how hoarse his voice really was, "Now let's blow this joint."

"The compound at HQ isn't far, thank God." Butcher responded, his tone now little more upbeat. "All of you can have a nice cold Nuka Cola and a long deserved nap on me."

_A Day Later…_

Castiel awoke from a deep seemingly dreamless sleep, yet with a racing pulse. However, Cas did revel in his sex dreams with long dead celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, or dreams about eating chocolate and ice cream cake or gigantic steaks with tangy sauce. Conversely, he couldn't always remember his more traumatic and meaningful imaginings. Though, he knew they were about his father or something out of his control, perhaps being stuck back at the Vault in a tiny cell. Whatever his dreams held he enjoyed having them.

The tall greaser blinked slowly a few times to clearly make out where he was. He felt extremely exhausted and it was a battle to keep his eyes open. He was, in fact, in a bed, he realized, lying comfortably on his back with warm beige covers up to his chest. Above him was a long rectangular mesh of metal holding another mattress about two feet from his face. _I'm in a bunk bed_, he noted and with a sigh of drowsiness he began to push himself up. Almost immediately pain hit him with a hard whack. His throat ached, his chest and back throbbing, and his head felt like someone was rhythmically smacking him in the skull. _Fuck…_

When sitting up fully in the bed he had to curl his shoulders with head hung low in order to not have hit his head on the metal lattice above. His t-shirt and leather jacket were missing along with his favorite black harness boots and blue jeans. Someone still had the courtesy to leave his boxer-briefs on and heal his injuries. Thick white gauze was wrapped around his midsection and gently around his neck. Cas lifted his right arm and brought his hand up to his face. The double gash above his right eye had been stitched up and the dry blood stuck to his face has been wiped away.

Cas understood that someone had patched him up and with care. He gazed down to his legs beneath the blanket and there was Dogmeat, peacefully asleep atop the covers at his side. He patted the dog's soft head then glanced to his left. He was in an underground room with shelves of canned foods, water bottles, board games, plates, and useless knickknacks. The place was pretty cluttered, but lit nicely, homey. A small, square table was set with three chairs on the opposite side of a narrow metal division in the room. Other bunks and single mattresses were placed about.

On one of these mattresses located on the floor, Donovan was sprawled out, deep in sleep, his armor absent. Castiel sighed with relief now; he was at the Ranger HQ. However, he couldn't really remember the walk to the compound or how he got into the bed. Oh well, he thought contentedly, at least we made it. Dogmeat stretched with a yawn and hopped off the bed.

Butcher came striding down the hall and entered the den. He still was wearing his green uniform, but without a helmet. He noticed that his ally and patient was awake and went to him.

"Take it easy, kid," he said and handed him pain medication. "Glad to see you're alright. Here, take two of these and you'll feel better."

Cas took the pills from him and grinned thankfully. "Thanks, doc, but ya know I really didn't need you to do all this." It was a bit painful to speak, his voice rough and raspy. He leaned back on one elbow in the bed.

Butcher frowned at him. "Took both Donovan and I to carry you in here," he said, "You passed out in Vernon Square, kid, I had to clean you up and take a look at your wounds. It's a medic's duty to his men."

The young greaser grinned with a laugh then realized Butcher had referred to him as one of _his _men. "Okay, thanks, man." he replied gratefully, yet was still a little dazed and now stunned. "I guess I did need it."

"Here," Butcher said and bent down to retrieve something from atop a footlocker at the foot of the bed. "Spoke to Reilly over the radio, she said she is extremely thankful and considers you one of her Rangers." he explained and dropped a folded set of Reilly's Ranger armor on the bed, the white insignia was bright and crisp.

"Wow, uh, thank you," Cas replied, astonished yet honored. "This is a surprise. Tell Reilly I say thanks and…"

"You can tell her yourself, she said she wanted to thank you in person and that as soon as you're able, to meet up with her in Underworld."

Cas nodded and ran a hand over his wounded abdomen. "I can do that, sure."

"Great, and anytime you need patching up, feel free to stop by." Butcher said and patted him on the shoulder. "You did good, Cas. I don't think a simple thank-you from me is worthy, but we're all grateful to you, all of Reilly's Rangers."

_Present Time…_

_How about my reward? _Huh, never thought that would've worked, Cas reminisced as the burgundy-redhead kissed him roughly. She obviously was grateful to him, it didn't take much for him to figure that out.

Castiel ran his big, cut-up hands along her thighs as she sat up again. She played with her red hair, moving on him in slow rhythmic plunges. He moved with her with undulations of his pelvis, allowing her to ride him. Reilly was pleased with his largeness, perhaps overjoyed. It wasn't a hassle to slip her pants off and undo his. He was a good lover, she realized, as he seemed to become more and more eager with every thrust. The room suddenly got hotter, the hallows of his cheeks flushed. Cas quickly sat up and wrapped his strong arms around Reilly's slender form.

Reilly moaned louder now and coiled her arms around his neck, tangling her slim fingers in his curly, raven hair. She pulled at him, dragging her hands over his chest, his back, and his arms. The medical bed was squeaking with their movements. Panting, Cas buried his face against the tiny space against her shoulder and throat as he moaned loudly, low throaty groans of pleasure. He pushed harder, sucking at the tender skin of her throat. Easily becoming bored with one position, he changed it yet again to revel in the entire thrill. The wound up greaser suddenly flipped the girl over on the mattress, pushing her back, so that now he was on top.

Reilly only squealed louder, her moans becoming higher pitched and more frequent as she clung to him. The amazing throbbing and stinging and burning escalated. His brain swam with nothing but the pleasure, his body tight with muscles tensed. He used his one foot as leverage, pushing from the floor, his bare shoulders coiling. He gripped the baseboard of the bed with one hand firmly, his other beneath her, his arm curling around her body.

It wasn't long until he began to lose control, Reilly practically screaming beneath him. "Cas! Oh, Cas!" she whimpered, running her hands through his thick dark hair. She loved the way his hips rocked against hers, the way he sounded. He moaned through his panting and racing heart as she clawed at him. He felt her tighten and throb around him, her body in a perfect mold with his. He soon fell over that threshold as well.

Cast nearly screamed. The strong hot burn was now pulsating in waves that only got more powerful with every thrust. It began in his groin then shot throughout his entire body, exploding in his brain. The bliss nearly hurt, aching. He was a god, nothing was better in that moment, nothing. He convulsed with a silent cry then fell.

Cas succumbed atop her, he remained there. His pulse was thundering in his ears as he panted. The last bits of the night he remembered were Reilly kissing him on the cheek and ringing in his ears before he passed out.

A low gruff voice was shouting at him. Cas opened his eyes with a tired sigh, but suddenly realized he was still in the clinic. He looked to his left with wide eyes and froze. _Shit_… It was morning. Doctor Barrows was yelling at him with nurse Graves at his side, looking shy and perhaps laughing.

"Shit," he sat up quickly and began to ramble, "I'm sorry, real sorry, I…"

Doc Barrows cut him off. "I don't give a shit about how sorry you are! Get out of my clinic!"

Cas was confused, but still felt a sense of satisfaction. He jumped out of the bed fast and nearly tripped. "I'm sorry, Reilly, she, um…" he was standing there like an idiot and realized he was still completely naked, except for his white socks. He did love socks. "Uh…" he laughed awkwardly and grabbed his pants from atop the IV stand and covered himself. "Look, it's not what it looks like…I can, uh, fix the bed and stuff…"

Barrows had his arms crossed with that permanent glare of his as Graves giggled with embarrassment beside him. "You have two minutes to take your goddamn pet and run, boy, or I'll cut you up for those ferals in there." He growled while pointing to the three wild ghouls behind the glass.

"Yup, you got it." Cas mumbled while pulling on his underwear. _That chick left me here_, he thought while getting dressed as fast as humanly possible, _what the hell?_

The wastelander was slipping on his leather jacket last as Doc Barrows shoved him through the doors of the clinic, Dogmeat following happily. "Shit!" Cas stumbled and nearly smacked right into a ghoul resident.

Patches stood there like his usual drunken self and suddenly smiled at him. Cas slipped his other arm into the jacket and looked to the ghoul in bewilderment. He ran a hand through his messy raven hair and licked his lips.

"What?" he asked and fixed his crooked shirt.

Patches nodded. "Nice," he said and laughed, "Gettin' lucky in the clinic… can you… can you teach me how to… to do that?"


End file.
